


The Red Devil's Turn

by Lesch9



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mutilation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pyramid Head's perspective, Sadism, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesch9/pseuds/Lesch9
Summary: Pyramid Head finally catches James. Told from Pyramid Head's perspective.





	The Red Devil's Turn

He found one in the corridor. It stood stalk still in the shadows, praying that he would pass it by. No such luck. The arc of his heavy blade knocked it to the ground. His gloved hand caught a flailing ankle and he began dragging it down the hall. Soon he was in position in the middle of the stairwell facing the locked door. He knew the other man would arrive soon and set to work without hesitation. The mannequin had started flailing again. With a grunt of frustration he pushed it over on itself until those four legs were arranged in the angle he most preferred. The plastic was cool and stiff. The arch of its back felt comfortable against his stomach. With growing excitement he pressed his impotence against hard plastic, grinding until the smooth surface was blemished with scuff marks. A moan escaped him, echoing inside the sharp metal of his hood. It sounded pleasurable, yes, enough to anger the other man. He pushed harder against the protesting mannequin, wishing for a brief instant that he had chosen instead the warmth of a nurse.

The nurses were like rotten apples he thought. Clean skin was stretched over firm flesh, but cut inside and the jelled decay is revealed. Their skin was cold to the touch but deep inside the necrosis was warm and soft. They feared him but with persuasion they could be made to comply. Beneath it all they enjoyed his advances in a masochistic way. That wouldn’t do for what he had in mind. No, he needed the mindless resistance of the mannequins for this. It was crucial for the punishment he had in mind. The other man would hate it, not only because it unnerved him, but also because he enjoyed it and that disgusted him even more.

At long last the door swung open. Bright light flooded the room and static filled the air. Finally. Their confrontation was brief. James tried to skirt the edge of the room, but became trapped in a corner. The Great Knife whistled through the air, catching him in the temple. With a delightful thud his unconscious body met the floor. How many times had be succumbed to the other denizens of this place? He was beginning to loose count. This time it was the Pyramid Thing’s turn. He took the man’s ankle in his eager fist and dragged him downward, to the very heart of Silent Hill; the place he called home.

\---

First he removed his gloves, letting the scarred flesh of his fingers brush against James’ skin. He smelled faintly of soap. His hair ran smoothly between the Pyramid Thing’s fingers. He traced the line of his scalp down to his neck. The muscles were slack, unconscious. Down further still he touched the man’s belly. What a contrast, he mused, pressing gently into the man’s stomach. Where his own flesh was rough and hard, the man’s was palpable, soft and smooth. He could almost feel the outlines of his viscera, here the liver, there the spleen.

Suddenly the muscles tensed and James let out a gasp. He was awake. It made little difference. There was nowhere for him to go, locked inside the Red Devil’s theater of hanging cages. The man scuttled across the floor, wailing until he found a corner. He curled up like an infant, cradling his head in his arms, sobbing the same word again and again, “Mary, Mary,” then finally, before trailing into silence: “what have I done?”

The Pyramid Thing rose to his feet. Slowly, with great effort, he removed his cloths. For the rest he did not care to undress. He had known them each a hundred times, knew how they felt, either plastic or slick against his body. However, this man before him was a prize to be savored. The skin of his back and chest was broken by many weeping cuts and sores. The fabric of his butcher’s smock was crusted with yellow serum, clinging to his wounds which bled meekly when exposed to the foul air. The man began to twitch, his back and shoulders rolling in waves of nausea. The Pyramid Thing took great pride in the revulsion he invited. Every inch of this putrid form, from the peak of his helmet to his soiled feet was an offense to this weak and pathetic man.

His body burned with anticipation. His member was stiff, like a second great knife. The first stood against the wall, glinting, winking at its lesser brother, a disgusting piece of rotting flesh, turned black and red, shining with inflammation. James’ eyes were wide, his jaw slack. Had he finally realized what punishment stood before him? The Red Devil extended his hand, seizing James by the ankle and pulling him across the floor. He wasted no time in pushing the man onto his belly, pressing himself against his back. At this moment, when the man’s tears joined the foul medley on the floor the Pyramid Thing groaned.

He ran his fingers across the man’s back and thighs. He would knew every inch of him; the angle of his jaw, the line of pail hair running down his belly. Oh how he had screamed when the Pyramid Thing found his way inside of him. James was so different from the rest, not plastic like the mannequins or rotten like the nurses. He was firm inside, tight and warm and best of all the man could not help himself. Yes, he struggled, kicking and flailing. His cries filled the room, interrupted only by his own emesis. But once inside, when the Pyramid Thing had impaled him and was moving inside of him, those screams changed character. With each thrust he pushed deeper and the man’s hips bucked against his own in eagerness. He became hard as stone, grasping himself and stroking with abandon until his semen mixed with the pool of vomit, blood and sweat already flowing across the tiles. How unholy was his pleasure, even in this place of wicked gods and monsters? The Red Devil thought to himself, if he had practice with words or the faculties to utter them, how he might tell this man he loved him.

James cried out, his muscles tightening in a wave as he spilled his seed across the tiles, but the Pyramid Thing did not stop. He was still wanting and so he moved more forcefully. The man cried again, but this time in pain. There was a wetness creeping along the Red Devil’s cock. James’ blood dripped from where they were joined. The Pyramid Thing’s arms were wound around the man’s stomach, holding him fast in spite of his struggling. The monster was enthralled in hatred, a wave that engulfed him, blinding him with the closest thing he knew to pleasure. His arms relaxed, hands reaching out he found the man’s collar. He caressed the bone, pausing only briefly before moving on to his neck, at first a tender touch, but tightening until James chocked. Tighter, tighter and then a snap. The man went limp as the Pyramid Thing emptied himself into this broken vessel. Too soon. He could have gone on for hours more. He sighed and let the body fall to join its spilled fluids.

Slowly, he stood, taking his garments from the table where they waited. The smock stung against his wounds. The Great Knife met his fingers, screeching gleefully as it slid across the floor. The Pyramid thing paused for only a moment, considering the corpse at his feet. Then he raised the blade above his head, letting the earth pull it down into the body’s stomach. He knelt beside it, sliding two fingers into the well of crimson, baptizing his hood with James’ blood before taking him by the ankle and pulling him across the floor. His wound left a brilliant line along the corridors, tracing a well warn path from nowhere to the freezer. The Pyramid Thing discarded the corpse along with the others. The gruesome cache had grown respectably, though not as quickly as in the beginning.

\---

James stood motionless, an ocean of crimson engulfed his field of vision entirely. Slowly it ebbed away until it was nothing more than a square of paper on the wall. How many times had he been here? It seemed so familiar, groping around his brain. At last he shook himself and moved away, turning the apartment stairway key in his uneasy hands.


End file.
